Hum. ohm. chug. buzz. s-s-s-squeak...
The tireless, well oiled machine suddenly grinds to a halt. The foreman-on-duty jumps up from his lunchbox belly position and races onto the factory floor. The fields of endless worker bees all stand in dismay. Someone pushed the Red Button, jumped the fence of consciousness and brought the whole damn thing to a stop! Sirens pierce the dead silence and millions of slave units (thoughts) are about to pop. The mighty foreman will have to reset the switch and get that machine rolling once again. but he can't seem to kind the key...
...escape from the Need to Know Factory...
[add to the story if you like]
His oily face begins to sweat profusely. His hand just can't seem to remain steady.
His mind racing with a multitude of unanswered what ifs..? What ifs.. ?
He gait unconsciously increased into what can be best discribed as an ungainly hopity left footed jog, but in his mind he is merely walking quickly to avoid making his shaking knees obvious.
Suddenly he knew what he must do, the same thing he has always done.
So with a red face he started with a loud bellow which ended in a high pitched squeak...
"who pushed that button...?
All eyes remained downcast, heads lowered but the workers glanced from side to side...checking...
Who had pushed that button?
20 seconds...no audible response to the question. 30 seconds and a half dozen "huh-hmmm" throat-clearings and 2 coughs went by.
The muscles strained in every neck - anticipating the same thing that happened last time the button was pushed, all workers tensing for the repeat question, knowing it would be squeak-less the second time - as it always was - coming from the foreman's face, already ripening from nervousness and irritation into a darkening crimson anger - a terrible temper...
"I SAID WHOOOOO PUSHED THAT BLOODY BUTTON THIS TIME?????"
All heads still, reeling in shivers.
No one knows, no one moves.
His lumpish form waddles between each row, as if secreting having the answer. Staring at each porcelain face, emotionless, cold and befuddled.
"If I catch the fool who did this, you are all going to pay for it!
Mark my words, you pathetic little thinkers", he howls, "So help you god!"
With that the factory goes utterly silent. A curious wonder consumes the fear of the many. One looks up to see a broken window. Glass shards of safety, strewn about. Each piece reflects the timely red hue of the alarm light...
Someone has escaped!
Muted whispers ran rampant up and down the rows of now silent machinery.
Who was it?
Where did they go?
What is outside?
Concept of life beyond the walls of the factory where more than most of the workers could comprehend. The factory was all they had ever known and now they knew more.
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Don't press the red button. We don't know what it may do.
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